


Communication Errors

by Wikketkrikket



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Steve is as awkward as anything, Tony likes praise, but he's MATURE about it, compliments, miscommunications, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 04:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20790542
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wikketkrikket/pseuds/Wikketkrikket
Summary: Tony's love language is compliments, but Steve is horrible at them. At that's fine, Tony has learnt that Steve shows his love in other ways and that's enough. Mostly.Except then Tony comes across a list that suggests Steve compliments other people just fine.





	Communication Errors

**Author's Note:**

> As always, not proof read because I hate proofing and also if I don't get out of the door in the next 3 minutes I'll miss my train to work XD Always the best time to post!

It wasn't an invasion of privacy, exactly. It was just that Steve was a perfectionist and Tony... well, if he was honest, Tony was a lovestruck fool. So yes, secretly going through his boyfriend's waste paper basket before he let the bots take it to recycling probably wasn't the _best _habit, but he just couldn't help it. He'd made up a whole scrap book of full and part completed sketches that Steve had deemed unworthy of preservation, while Tony himself couldn't bear to see them discarded; in fact that had been how he had first begun to suspect that Steve returned his feelings in the first place – when he found picture after picture after picture of himself cropping up. Anything else in there, receipts or the notes Steve wrote to himself, he made a point of always throwing back into the bin unread. Always. No matter how curious he was. Except.

The piece of paper had been crumpled up into a tight ball, and he had unscrunched it to see if it was another work of art. When he saw instead it was a list, he would have thrown it away again except – except a word had accidentally caught his eye. Steve's handwriting. It said 'prettiest'. As in, _You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen_.

Heart pounding, Tony found he had read the whole thing before he'd even had chance to think about what he was doing.

_Sweetheart, sweet thing, doll, darling?_

_You have beautiful lips/eyes/hands._

_ You are the prettiest thing I have ever seen._

_ The way your hips move drives me wild_

_ Whatever you've done to your hair looks amazing_

_ You smell great (compliment new scents)_

_ You always dress so well_

_ Those shoes make your ass look_

There it ended. Tony could just imagine Steve being shocked with himself for thinking about someone's ass, crumpling the paper up and throwing it away in shame and frustration. What he was having a harder time imagining, however, was _Steve_, his Steve, writing some kind of stream-of-conciousness love letter. Because he knew Steve's love language. He'd learnt early on that being given compliments made Steve uncomfortable and embarrassed and flustered, and that asking him to try and give one, especially based on looks, was just about his worst nightmare. Tony had learnt that Steve showed his love in the little things, in getting up early to make the coffee, in learning to sleep with a white noise machine because Tony preferred it, on coming home from a mission with a kit bag full of Tony's favourite hot sauce, because the recipe had changed in the US but not in Europe. He took note of the way Steve looked at him when he wore a particularly fine suit. And Tony had gotten used to it. He'd learnt to appreciate the gestures and looks for what they represented, had attempted to show his love to Steve in the same way, and had tried to bury his yearning for actual, vocalised expressions of affection. He probably only felt like he needed them because he had been denied them so often as a child, blah, blah, psychologist's goldmine, blah.

But Steve had written this list. It was definitely his writing and it was in his bin, so he had undoubtedly written it. And the compliments, the way they were worded, the references to lips and hips and hair and clothes and perfume and, presumably, high heeled shoes, made Tony think, made it pretty obvious, that he had been writing to a woman.

Tony swallowed. Steve being bi wasn't news, but if Steve could compliment a woman and not him, his actual boyfriend, what did that mean? And if Steve _wanted _to say these things to a woman, a specific woman, that meant something even worse. Tony wanted to run, he wanted to head straight for the nearest bar and drink until things made sense again, but he didn't. He didn't even run out to his private jet and head somewhere far away where Steve – and the argument they were going to have to have – couldn't find him. He stayed put. To talk about it, like an adult.

Sometimes being emotionally mature sucked ass. An ass apparently improved by high heeled shoes.

***

So Steve wasn't exactly pleased about the fact Tony had been going through his trash. He seemed much more concerned about that than he did about the incriminating list, in fact, which did not reassure Tony at all about his priorities.

'Okay, sure, I crossed a line, I get it.' He snapped, when he couldn't take the lecture any more. 'But I just like, put a toe across it, you're the one who used it as the start line of the long jump!'

Steve pushed a hand back through his hair in frustration. It was getting long again, and any day now he would go and get it cut back to his usual regulation length. Tony liked it both ways, and normally he would make the most of the rare times it was like this – especially now it was all dishevelled and rumpled – but it so wasn't the time. 'What am I supposed to have done?' He demanded, as if Tony hadn't already screamed it at him five times.

'This!' Tony said, waving the list, annoyed beyond belief that Steve was acting like he didn't get it, like he hadn't been at least emotionally cheating -

'So I'm bad at compliments! That's why they were in the trash!'

'Funnily enough, it's not the quality I'm worried about! It's the fact they're for someone else!'

Steve blinked at him. 'What?' He said, though from the blush creeping up his neck he knew exactly what Tony meant.

'Yeah,' Tony said, stonily. 'So, Cap, who's the lucky girl that's caught your eye?'

Burying his face in his hands and slumping into a chair Steve groaned, 'This is the most humiliating moment of my life', which was not the confession Tony had expected. Only, as usual, his brain was three steps ahead, and it had reached a conclusion – the only real logical conclusion, if Tony was ignoring his insecurity – that was making warmth spread through him.

_'_Steve,' he said, trying to keep the teasing delight out of his tone. 'Are you trying to tell me this list is about _me_?'

'Please stop.'

'No, no, come on, let's get to the bottom of this. Steven Grant Rogers, were you thinking about my ass?'

'I hate you.'

'Apparently not.' Tony couldn't hide it any more, and he started to laugh. 'Were you trying to _plan _compliments? Oh honey.' He went over to Steve, rubbing his back until Steve eventually sat up and met his eye, pulling him in close.

'I'm sorry, Tony,' he said, earnestly. 'I know you like compliments, I just...' he trailed off, awkwardly, and Tony couldn't help but kiss him. Steve responded gently but briefly, so Tony pulled away. Steve couldn't meet his eyes again. 'I just don't know how to compliment men. I've never done it before. I was never much good sweet talking girls either but...' he blew out a huff of air. 'I guess I was thinking that maybe if I wrote down what I was thinking, I'd be able to find a way of, you know, translating it-'

Tony cut him off with a kiss, and this time Steve responded with enthusiasm, which made Tony think he'd got the memo. When they finally broke, Steve was smiling.

'So I guess you liked the list.'

'I loved the list. No translation needed.'

'Except you thought it was for a woman.'

'Yeah, well, I'm dumb. You can call me _pretty_ all you like.'

Smirking now in his lop sided way, Steve rubbed his back, making Tony arch closer to him. 'Oh, can I?'

'Yep. And you should. The rest of that list too.'

'Alright then, baby doll,' Steve murmured, and to his credit he only blushed a little. 'I'll keep reminding you you're gorgeous.'

Something inside Tony melted, and it was some time before they had the breath to speak again.

'Hey,' Tony said, eventually, his turn to smirk now. 'Which shoes was it, anyway?' And he laughed as Steve blushed all over again.


End file.
